


Dad Jokes

by TheWalkingDino



Series: Rickyl one-shots [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Hurt Daryl Dixon, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dad jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDino/pseuds/TheWalkingDino
Summary: After the traumatic events of Daryl's day, including being shot by Andrea, Rick comes to check on him. Dad jokes ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters.

Rick was pacing outside of that room, waiting for Hershel to open the door and tell him Daryl would be okay. He had to be okay. _But what if he wasn’t._

And finally, _finally_ the door opened and Hershel stepped outside. “He’ll be alright.” He offered a small smile and patted Rick on the back as he walked away. Rick bound into the room to see Daryl, wrapped in bandages, pulling the blankets around himself and settling into the bed. He kneeled by the bedside and reached one hand out to run it down the side of the archer’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“Bitch shot me,” Daryl grumbled, but he smiled, just slightly. It was a twist at the corner of his lips that not many people would recognize, but Rick saw it.

“Yeah.” Rick nodded his head, leaning closer to Daryl. “She didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know.” Daryl huffed, tugging the blankets up to his neck. “Guess I looked like a geek, though. Can’t blame ‘er.”

“I thought…” Rick shook his head and pressed his face into the mattress, squeezing his eyes shut. He lifted his head up, resting his chin on the edge of the mattress, and stared up at Daryl with big, sad eyes, like a puppy. “Thought she killed you. Thought you were _gone_.”

“C’mon. Y’know it’d take more ‘an that ta kill me.” Daryl’s hand was sliding across the fitted sheet, searching for Rick’s hand. His fingertips finally brushed across Rick’s palm, and his hand stilled against the leader’s hand. He didn’t try to hold the man’s hand, he simply let his hand rest there, as a reminder that he was there, and he was okay.

“You’ve been out there looking for Sophia every day.” Rick sighed, heaving himself back to his feet, only to sit down on the edge of the mattress. He found Daryl’s hand again, resting his own hand on top of it, without holding it.

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted, shifting on his side to better look at Rick. “I’m gonna find her. Fer Carol.”

“I know you will.” Rick’s mouth pulled into a closed-mouth smile. “Soon as you get better.”

“Bet Hershel is damn tired of us gettin’ shot.” Daryl chuckled but stopped when he saw Rick’s face fall. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Rick shifted his weight farther back onto the bed as he kicked his boots off. “He probably is.” He smiled again. “We’re some pretty accident-prone people, aren’t we?”

“Mhm.” Daryl’s eyes were drooping with tiredness. “What’re ya doin’?”

“Gonna lay down. If that’s alright with you.” Rick looked over his shoulder at the archer, waiting for his subtle nod of approval, and when it came, he swung his legs up onto the bed and dropped back, letting the back of his head hit the mattress.

“There a reason yer stayin’ in here, officer?” Daryl sassed, another small smile twitching at the corners of his thin lips.

“Keeping my eyes on a thief. Making sure he’s not gonna be breaking out of here anytime soon.” Rick grinned as he spoke.

“Thief?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. “I’m curious. What is it that I stole?”

Rick’s cheeks flushed pink and he turned his head so he could stare at the ceiling again. “My heart.”

“Cheesy bastard.” Daryl laughed, and his fingers threaded themselves between Rick’s. He squeezed his hand gently, and Rick looked to the hunter again, an embarrassed smile creeping onto his face.

“You _love_ my corny jokes.” The ex-sheriff rolled onto his side, shifting closer to Daryl. He snatched the blankets from the man and pulled them over himself. “Going _undercover._ ”

Daryl shook his head, covering his face with his hands as he smiled. “Yer gonna be the death of me, Grimes.”

“So you’re saying that my _jokes_ will kill you, but falling down a cliff, being stabbed by your own arrow, and getting shot by Andrea won’t.” Rick smiled, nestling closer to Daryl.

“Exactly.” Daryl nodded his head, and the pair lied beside each other, silent. Rick moved his hand away from Daryl’s and felt around beneath the sheets until he hit Daryl’s leg. He slid his hand up to his hip and let it rest there. Daryl moved one of his own arms to Rick’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Hey, Daryl…” Rick held a serious face, refusing to let the smile that threatened to spread across his face win.

“Mhm?” Daryl dipped his head against Rick’s shoulder.

“Are you a parking ticket?” Rick asked, quietly.

“Oh boy.” Daryl chuckled against Rick’s neck.

“Because you have _fine_ written all over you.” Rick laughed, squeezing Daryl’s hip lightly. He intended to press a kiss against the top of Daryl’s head, but it was covered up by the bandage, so he kissed his temple instead. “Daryl…” Rick chewed on his bottom lip, biting back his smile. “Are you a taser?”

“Shit.” Daryl smiled against Rick’s skin.

“Because you are _stunning._ ”

“Ya done now?” Daryl asked, rolling his eyes, he gripped Rick’s waist a little tighter.

“Yeah.” Rick chortled. “I’ll put the jokes behind bars for now.” He deadpanned.

“That one wasn’t even good.” Daryl huffed. He pressed a kiss against Rick’s neck, and the leader let out a contented sigh.

“I know.” Rick closed his eyes, relaxing into Daryl’s warmth, “You need to go to sleep now, Daryl. So you can heal.”

“Ain’t sleepy.” Daryl protested, through a quiet yawn.

Rick laughed to himself and Daryl _knew_ what was going to happen. He knew the man had another joke up his sleeve, and he’d just opened the door for it to walk right in. “Are you… Resisting ar _rest_?” 


End file.
